He resumes his gnawing.
POZZO:
You are severe. (To Vladimir.) What age are you,
if it’s not a rude question? (Silence.) Sixty?
Seventy? (To Estragon.) What age would you say
he was?
ESTRAGON:
Eleven.
POZZO:
I am impertinent. (He knocks out his pipe against
the whip, gets up.) I must be getting on. Thank
you for your society. (He reflects.) Unless I smoke
another pipe before I go. What do you say? (They
say nothing.) Oh I’m only a small smoker, a very
small smoker, I’m not in the habit of smoking two
pipes one on top of the other, it makes (hand to
heart, sighing) my heart go pit-a-pat. (Silence.) It’s
the nicotine, one absorbs it in spite of one’s
precautions. (Sighs.) You know how it is. (Silence.)
But perhaps you don’t smoke? Yes? No? It’s of no
importance. (Silence.) But how am I to sit down
now, without affectation, now that I have risen?
Without appearing to—how shall I say—without
appearing to falter. (To Vladimir.) I beg your
pardon? (Silence.) Perhaps you didn’t speak?
(Silence.) It’s of no importance. Let me see . . .
He reflects.
ESTRAGON:
Ah! That’s better.
He puts the bones in his pocket.
VLADIMIR:
Let’s go.
ESTRAGON:
So soon?
POZZO:
One moment! (He jerks the rope.) Stool! (He
points with his whip. Lucky moves the stool.)
More! There! (He sits down. Lucky goes back to
his place.) Done it!
He fills his pipe.
VLADIMIR:
(vehemently). Let’s go!
POZZO:
I hope I’m not driving you away. Wait a little
longer, you’ll never regret it.
ESTRAGON:
(scenting charity). We’re in no hurry.
POZZO:
(having lit his pipe). The second is never so sweet
. . . (he takes the pipe out of his mouth,
contemplates it) . . . as the first I mean. (He puts
the pipe back in his mouth.) But it’s sweet just the
same.
VLADIMIR:
I’m going.
POZZO:
He can no longer endure my presence. I am
perhaps not particularly human, but who cares?
(To Vladimir.) Think twice before you do anything
rash. Suppose you go now while it is still day, for
there is no denying it is still day. (They all look up
at the sky.) Good. (They stop looking at the sky.)
What happens in that case—(he takes the pipe out
of his mouth, examines it)—I’m out—(he relights
his pipe)—in that case—(puff)—in that case—(puff)
—what happens in that case to your appointment
with this . . . Godet . . . Godot . . . Godin
. . . anyhow you see who I mean, who has your
future in his hands . . . (pause) ... at least
your immediate future?
VLADIMIR:
Who told you?
POZZO:
He speaks to me again! If this goes on much
longer we’ll soon be old friends.
ESTRAGON:
Why doesn’t he put down his bags?
POZZO:
I too would be happy to meet him. The more
people I meet the happier I become. From the
meanest creature one departs wiser, richer, more
conscious of one’s blessings. Even you . . . (he
looks at them ostentatiously in turn to make it
clear they are both meant) . . . even you, who
knows, will have added to my store.
ESTRAGON:
Why doesn’t he put down his bags?
POZZO:
But that would surprise me.
VLADIMIR:
You’re being asked a question.
POZZO:
(delighted). A question! Who? What? A moment
ago you were calling me Sir, in fear and
trembling. Now you’re asking me questions. No
good will come of this!
VLADIMIR:
(to Estragon). I think he’s listening.
ESTRAGON:
(circling about Lucky). What?
VLADIMIR:
You can ask him now. He’s on the alert.
ESTRAGON:
Ask him what?
VLADIMIR:
Why he doesn’t put down his bags.
ESTRAGON:
I wonder.
VLADIMIR:
Ask him, can’t you?
POZZO:
(who has followed these exchanges with anxious
attention, fearing lest the question get lost). You
want to know why he doesn’t put down his bags,
as you call them.
VLADIMIR:
That’s it.
POZZO:
(to Estragon). You are sure you agree with that?
ESTRAGON:
He’s puffing like a grampus.
POZZO:
The answer is this. (To Estragon.) But stay still, I
beg of you, you’re making me nervous!
VLADIMIR:
Here.
ESTRAGON:
What is it?
VLADIMIR:
He’s about to speak.
Estragon goes over beside Vladimir. Motionless,
side by side, they wait.
POZZO:
Good. Is everybody ready? Is everybody looking
at me? (He looks at Lucky, jerks the rope. Lucky
raises his head.) Will you look at me, pig! (Lucky
looks at him.) Good. (He puts the pipe in his
pocket, takes out a little vaporizer and sprays his
throat, puts back the vaporizer in his pocket,
clears his throat, spits, takes out the vaporizer
again, sprays his throat again, puts back the
vaporizer in his pocket.) I am ready. Is everybody
listening? Is everybody ready? (He looks at them
all in turn, jerks the rope.) Hog! (Lucky raises his
head.) I don’t like talking in a vacuum. Good.
Let me see.
He reflects.
ESTRAGON:
I’m going.
What was it exactly you wanted to know?
VLADIMIR:
Why he–
POZZO:
(angrily). Don’t interrupt me! (Pause. Calmer.) If
we all speak at once we’ll never get anywhere.
(Pause.) What was I saying? (Pause. Louder.)
What was I saying?
Vladimir mimics one carrying a heavy burden.
Pozzo looks at him, puzzled.
ESTRAGON:
(forcibly). Bags. (He points at Lucky.) Why?
Always hold. (He sags, panting.) Never put down.
(He opens his hands, straightens up with relief.)
Why?
POZZO:
Ah! Why couldn’t you say so before? Why he
doesn’t make himself comfortable? Let’s try and
get this clear. Has he not the right to? Certainly
he has. It follows that he doesn’t want to. There’s
reasoning for you. And why doesn’t he want to?
(Pause.) Gentlemen, the reason is this.
VLADIMIR:
(to Estragon). Make a note of this.
POZZO:
He wants to impress me, so that I’ll keep him.
ESTRAGON:
What?
POZZO:
P
erhaps I haven’t got it quite right. He wants to
mollify me, so that I’ll give up the idea of parting
with him. No, that’s not exactly it either.
VLADIMIR:
You want to get rid of him?
POZZO:
He wants to cod me, but he won’t.
VLADIMIR:
You want to get rid of him?
POZZO:
He imagines that when I see how well he carries Π1 be tempted to keep him on in that capacity.
ESTRAGON:
You’ve had enough of him?
POZZO:
In reality he carries like a pig. It’s not his job.
VLADIMIR:
You want to get rid of him?
POZZO:
He imagines that when I see him indefatigable
I’ll regret my decision. Such is his miserable
scheme. As though I were short of slaves! (All
three look at Lucky.) Atlas, son of Jupiter!
(Silence.) Well, that’s that I think. Anything else?
Vaporizer.
VLADIMIR:
You want to get rid of him?
POZZO:
Remark that I might just as well have been in his
shoes and he in mine. If chance had not willed
otherwise. To each one his due.
VLADIMIR:
You waagerrim?
POZZO:
I beg your pardon?
VLADIMIR:
You want to get rid of him?
POZZO:
I do. But instead of driving him away as I might
have done, I mean instead of simply kicking him
out on his arse, in the goodness of my heart I am
bringing him to the fair, where I hope to get a
good price for him. The truth is you can’t drive
such creatures away. The best thing would be to
kill them.
ESTRAGON:
He’s crying!
POZZO:
Old dogs have more dignity. (He proffers his
handkerchief to Estragon.) Comfort him, since
you pity him. (Estragon hesitates.) Come on.
(Estragon takes the handkerchief.) Wipe away his
tears, he’ll feel less forsaken.
Estragon hesitates.
VLADIMIR:
Here, give it to me, I’ll do it.
Estragon refuses to give the handkerchief.
Childish gestures.
POZZO:
Make haste, before he stops. (Estragon approaches
Lucky and makes to wipe his eyes. Lucky kicks
him violently in the shins. Estragon drops the
handkerchief, recoils, staggers about the stage
howling with pain.) Hanky!
Lucky puts down bag and basket, picks up
handkerchief and gives it to Pozzo, goes back to
his place, picks up bag and basket.
ESTRAGON:
Oh the swine! (He pulls up the leg of his
trousers.) He’s crippled me!
POZZO:
I told you he didn’t like strangers.
VLADIMIR:
(to Estragon). Show. (Estragon shows his leg. To
Pozzo, angrily.) He’s bleeding!
POZZO:
It’s a good sign.
ESTRAGON:
(on one leg). I’ll never walk again!
VLADIMIR:
(tenderly). I’ll carry you. (Pause.) If necessary.
POZZO:
He’s stopped crying. (To Estragon.) You have
replaced him as it were. (Lyrically.) The tears of
the world are a constant quantity. For each one
who begins to weep somewhere else another stops.
The same is true of the laugh. (He laughs.) Let us
not then speak ill of our generation, it is not any
unhappier than its predecessors. (Pause.) Let us not
speak well of it either. (Pause.) Let us not
speak of it at all. (Pause. Judiciously.) It is true
the population has increased.
VLADIMIR:
Try and walk.
Estragon takes a few limping steps, stops before
Lucky and spits on him, then goes and sits down
on the mound.
POZZO:
Guess who taught me all these beautiful things.
(Pause. Pointing to Lucky.) My Lucky!
VLADIMIR:
(looking at the sky). Will night never come?
POZZO:
But for him all my thoughts, all my feelings, would have been of common things. (Pause. With extraordinary vehemence.) Professional worries! (Calmer.) Beauty, grace, truth of the first water, I knew they were all beyond me. So I took a knook.
VLADIMIR:
(startled from his inspection of the sky). A knook?
POZZO:
That was nearly sixty years ago . . . (he consults his watch) . . . yes, nearly sixty. (Drawing himself up proudly.) You wouldn’t think it to look at me, would you? Compared to him I look like a young man, no? (Pause.) Hat! (Lucky puts down the basket and takes off his hat. His long white hair falls about his face. He puts his hat under his arm and picks up the basket.) Now look. (Pozzo takes off his hat.* He is completely bald. He puts on his hat again.) Did you see?
VLADIMIR:
And now you turn him away? Such an old and faithful servant!
ESTRAGON:
Swine!
Pozzo more and more agitated.
VLADIMIR:
After having sucked all the good out of him you chuck him away like a . . . like a banana skin. Really . . .
POZZO:
(groaning, clutching his head). I can’t bear it . . . any longer . . . the way he goes on . . . you’ve no idea . . . it’s terrible ... he must go . . . (he waves his arms) . . . I’m going mad . . . (he collapses, his head in his hands) ... I can’t bear it . . . any longer . . .